Records Of A Girlhood Volume 1 (1 Of 2), Frances Ann Kemble [i can read book club .txt] 📗
- Author: Frances Ann Kemble
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Of Any Talent For It Whatever; I Do Not Think I Am Now Deceived As
To The Quantity I Can Really Lay Claim To, By The Exaggerated
Praises Of The Public, Who Have Been Too Long Deprived Of Any
Female Object Of Special Interest On The Boards To Be Very Nice
About The First That Is Presented To Them; Nor Am I Unconscious Of
The Amount Of Work That Will Be Requisite To Turn My Abilities To
Their Best Use. Wait; Have Patience; By And By, I Hope, I Shall Do
Better. It Is Very True That To Be The Greatest Actress Of My Day
Is Not The Aim On Which My Happiness Depends. But Having Embraced
This Career, I Think I Ought Not To Rest Satisfied With Any Degree
Of Excellence Short Of What My Utmost Endeavor Will Enable Me To
Attain In It....
My Print, Or Rather The Print Of Me, From Sir Thomas Lawrence's
Drawing, Is Out. He Has Promised You One, So I Do Not. There Are
Also Coming Out A Series Of Sketches By Mr. Hayter, From My Juliet,
With A Species Of _Avant Propos_ Written By Mrs. Jameson; This Will
Interest You, And I Will Send You A Copy Of It When It Is
Published.
I Will Tell You A Circumstance Of Much Anxious Hope To Us All Just
Now, But As The Result Is Yet Uncertain, Do Not Mention It. We Have
A Species Of Offer Of A Living For My Brother John, Who, You Know,
Is Going Into The Church. This Is A Consummation Devoutly To Be
Wished, And I Most Sincerely Hope We May Not Be Disappointed. He Is
Still In Germany, Very Happy And Very Metaphysical; Should We
Obtain This Living, However, I Suppose He Would Return Immediately.
Independently Of My Wish To See Him Again, I Shall Be Glad When He
Leaves Germany I Think; But I Have Not Time For What I Think About
Germany To-Day, And You Must Be Rather Tired Of
Yours Most Affectionately,
F. A. K.
Volume 1 Chapter 13 Pg 40
Mr. Hayter's Graceful Sketches Of Me In Juliet Were Lithographed And
Published With Mrs. Jameson's Beautifully Written But Too Flattering
Notice Of My Performance; The Original Drawings Were Purchased By Lord
Ellesmere. The Second Part Assigned To Me By The Theater Authorities Was
Belvidera, In Otway's "Venice Preserved." I Had Never Read The Play
Until I Learned My Part, Nor Seen It Until I Acted It. It Is, I Believe,
One Of The Longest Female Parts On The Stage. But I Had Still My
School-Girl Capacity For Committing Quickly To Memory, And Learned It In
Three Hours. Acting It Was A Very Different Matter. I Was No Longer
Sustained By The Genius Of Shakespeare, No Longer Stimulated By The
Sublime Passion And Exquisite Poetry. Juliet Was A Reality To Me, A
Living Individual Woman, Whose Nature I Could Receive, As It Were, Into
Mine At Once, Without Effort, Comprehending And Expressing It. Belvidera
Seemed To Me A Sort Of Lay Figure In A Tragic Attitude, A Mere, "Female
In General," Without Any Peculiar Or Specific Characteristics Whatever;
Placed As Belvidera Is In The Midst Of Sordidly Painful And Coarsely
Agonizing Circumstances, There Was Nothing In The Part Itself That
Affected My Feelings Or Excited My Imagination; And The Miserable
Situations Into Which The Poor Creature Was Thrown Throughout The Piece
Revolted Me, And Filled Me With Disgust For The Men She Had To Do With,
Without Inspiring Me With Any Sympathy For Her. In This Piece, Too, I
Came At Once Into The Unfavorable Light Of Full Comparison With My
Aunt's Performance Of The Part, Which Was One Of Her Famous Ones. A
Friend Of Hers And Mine, My Dear And Excellent William Harness, Said
That Seeing Me Was Exactly Like Looking At Mrs. Siddons Through The
Diminishing End Of An Opera Glass. My Personal Likeness To Her, In Spite
Of My Diminutive Size And Irregular Features, Was Striking, And Of
Course Suggested, To Those Who Remembered Her, Associations Which Were
Fatal To My Satisfactory Performance Of The Part. I Disliked The Play
And The Character Of Belvidera, And I Am Sure I Must Have Played It Very
Indifferently.
I Remember One Circumstance Connected With My First Performance Of It
Which Proved How Painfully The Unredeemed Horror And Wretchedness Of The
Piece Acted Upon My Nerves And Imagination. In The Last Scene, Where
Poor Belvidera's Brain Gives Way Under Her Despair, And She Fancies
Herself Digging For Her Husband In The Earth, And That She At Last
Recovers And Seizes Him, I Intended To Utter A Piercing Scream; This I
Had Not Of Course Rehearsed, Not Being Able To Scream Deliberately In
Cold Blood, So That I Hardly Knew, Myself, What Manner Of Utterance I
Should Find For My Madness. But When The Evening Came, I Uttered Shriek
After Shriek Without Stopping, And Rushing Off The Stage Ran All Round
The Back Of The Scenes, And Was Pursuing My Way, Perfectly Unconscious
Of What I Was Doing, Down The Stairs That Led Out Into The Street, When
I Was Captured And Brought Back To My Dressing-Room And My Senses.
The Next Piece In Which I Appeared Was Murphy's "Grecian Daughter;" A
Feeble And Inflated Composition, As Inferior In Point Of Dramatic And
Poetical Merit To Otway's "Venice Preserved," As That Is To Any Of
Shakespeare's Masterpieces. It Has Situations Of Considerable Effect,
However, And The Sort Of Parental And Conjugal Interest That Infallibly
Strikes Sympathetic Chords In The _Pater Familias_ Bosom Of An English
Audience. The Choice Of The Piece Had In It, In My Opinion, An
Ingredient Of Bad Taste, Which, Objectionable As It Seemed To Me, Had
Volume 1 Chapter 13 Pg 41Undoubtedly Entered Into The Calculation Of The Management, As Likely To
Increase The Effect And Success Of The Play; I Mean The Constant
Reference To Euphrasia's Filial Devotion, And Her Heroic And Pious
Efforts In Behalf Of Her Old Father--Incidents In The Piece Which Were
Seized Upon And Applied To My Father And Myself By The Public, And Which
May Have Perhaps Added To The Feeling Of The Audience, As They Certainly
Increased My Dislike For The Play. Here, Too, I Again Encountered The
Formidable Impression Which Mrs. Siddons Had Produced In The Part, Of
Which, In Spite Of The Turbid Coldness And Stilted Emphasis Of The
Style, She Had Made A Perfect Embodiment Of Heroic Grandeur And
Classical Grace. My Euphrasia Was, I Am Sure, A Pitiful Picture Of An
Antique Heroine, In Spite Of Macdonald's Enthusiasm For The "Attitude"
In The Last Scene, And My Cousin Horace Twiss's Comical Verdict Of
Approbation, That It Was All Good, But Especially The Scene Where "You
Tip It The Tyrant."
JAMES STREET, BUCKINGHAM GATE, January 17, 1830.
DEAREST H----,
Although My Mind Is Much Occupied Just Now With A New Part In Which
I Appear To-Morrow, I Take Advantage Of The Bodily Rest This Day
Affords Me To Write You A Few Lines, Which I Fear I Might Not Find
Time For Again As Soon As I Wish. There Was Enough In Your Last
Letter, Dear H----, To Make Me Melancholy, Independently Of The
Question Which You Ask Respecting My Picture In Juliet, And Which
The Papers Have By This Time Probably Answered To You.
Sir Thomas Lawrence Is Dead. The Event Has Been Most Distressing,
And Most Sudden And Unexpected To Us. It Really Seemed As Though We
Had Seen Him But The Day Before We Heard Of It; And Indeed, It Was
But A Few Days Since My Mother Had Called On Him, And Since He Had
Written To Me A Long Letter On The Subject Of My Belvidera, Full Of
Refined Taste And Acute Criticism, As All His Letters To Me Were.
It Was A Great Shock; Indeed, So Much So, That Absolute Amazement
For A Little Time Prevented My Feeing All The Regret I Have Since
Experienced About It. Nor Was It Till I Sat Down To Write To
Cecilia, To Request Her To Prevent Any Sudden Communication Of The
Event To My Aunt Siddons, That I Felt It Was Really True, And Found
Some Relief In Crying. I Had To Act Belvidera That Same Night, And
It Was With A Very Heavy Heart That I Repeated Those Passages In
Which Poor Sir Thomas Lawrence Had Pointed Out Alterations And
Suggested Improvements. He Is A Great Loss To Me, Individually. His
Criticism Was Invaluable To Me. He Was A Most Attentive Observer;
No Shade Of Feeling Or Slightest Variation Of Action Or Inflection
Of Voice Escaped Him; His Suggestions Were _Always_ Improvements,
Conveyed With The Most Lucid Clearness; And, As You Will Easily
Believe, His Strictures Were Always Sufficiently Tempered With
Refined Flattery To Have Disarmed The Most Sensitive Self-Love. My
Juliet And Belvidera Both Owe Much To Him, And In This Point Of
View Alone His Loss Is Irreparable To Me. It Is Some Matter Of
Regret, Too, As You May Suppose, That We Can Have No Picture Of Me
By Him, But This Is A More Selfish And Less Important Motive Of
Sorrow Than My Loss Of His Advice In My Profession. I Understand
That My Aunt Siddons Was Dreadfully Shocked By The News, And Cried,
Volume 1 Chapter 13 Pg 42"And Have I Lived To See Him Go Before Me!" ... His Promise To Send
You A Print From His Drawing Of Me, Dearest H----, He Cannot
Perform, But I Will Be His Executor In This Instance, And If You
Will Tell Me How It Can Be Conveyed To You, I Will Send You One.
This Letter, My Dearest H----, Which Was Begun On Sunday, I Now Sit
Down To Finish On Tuesday Evening, And Cannot Do Better, I Think,
Than Give You A Full Account Of Our Last Night's Success; For A
Very Complete Success It Was, I Am Happy To Say. Murphy's Play Of
"The Grecian Daughter" I Suppose You Know; Or If You Do Not, Your
State Is The
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